


First Impressions and Unexpected Connections

by Melusine11



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Banter, F/M, First Kiss, Force Bond, Lightsabers, Princess Rey Palpatine, Smut, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, The Force, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22687090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melusine11/pseuds/Melusine11
Summary: War has ravaged the galaxy, but finally, there is a chance at peace. Her grandfather arranges for Princess Rey Palpatine to wed the Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, broadcast across the galaxy to usher in the new era.They've never met before, but he's sent her letters.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 36
Kudos: 259
Collections: For one is both and both are one in love: The Reylo Fanfiction Anthology's Valentine's Day Exchange





	First Impressions and Unexpected Connections

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LueurdeLaube](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LueurdeLaube/gifts).



> LueurdeLaube, all of your prompts were brilliant, and I'm so honored I have the chance to write something for you. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Thank you so much to [tmwilson3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmwillson3/pseuds/tmwillson3) for the beta read on this!

They’ve never met, but in less than two standard hours, they will. Rey will stand up on an elaborately built stage, in an elaborate dress she’s still being helped into, with an elaborate updo, and she will put her hand in a stranger's. She dislikes everything about the process, it’s too much, too grand, but it doesn’t matter because in less than two standard hours, Rey Palpatine will be married to Kylo Ren. Supreme Leader of The First Order. And together their union will finally ensure peace across the galaxy. 

At least that is the hope.

She’s heard of him; though, who hasn’t? Tales of his ruthlessness, his anger, his Knights that stand sentry and fight with him in battle. There are even rumors he lacks a heart. She had outright refused when her grandfather first told her of his intentions for her. Plans had already been made, though, and she was merely a small piece in the game her grandfather was orchestrating. 

She wasn’t even climbing into bed that night when the news was being blasted across the holonet. When she wasn’t spending her time in meetings, she was scheduled for fittings and tastings and exploring their palace gardens to select flowers. Her apathy for the upcoming event was palpable, but no one mentioned it.

She doesn’t even know what he looks like, she thinks as her nerves and anger battle each other as she steps into her shoes. He’s written her letters, though, actual letters on paper and delivered by courier. The small room in their palace holds all of three books, protected and only brought out rarely. _It’s status_ , her grandfather would tell her when she was younger. So she treasures the letters, brief and curt though they are. His handwriting is lovely; his words are not.

The first had merely read: Princess Rey, I look forward to making your acquaintance. Sincerely Supreme Leader Kylo Ren.

She never writes him back.

From the hall, she can hear the rolling murmurs of a crowd unable to keep quiet, and the gentle strains of music. Every choice a Nabooian classic. Her palms are sweating. She closes her eyes and breathes slowly, counting to ten, imagining she’s somewhere far from here, from the noise and the crowds that are just around the corner.

The doors creak as they open, and a small droid peeks its head around the corner, followed quickly by one of her Grandfather’s men. “It’s time,” he says, wrinkled face looking pale, but he manages a smile.

“Thank you, Allegiant General Pryde,” Rey says, reaching out to take his arm. He escorts her to the doors, and then she is alone. Alone in a sea of faces, faces she doesn’t know as she makes her way towards her future, hidden behind a mask.

The ceremony feels endless, and she tries to keep her expression light. Somewhere between invested in the words being said and happy. Her hands are held within her betrothed's. His grip is light on hers, but warm, even through his gloves. Rey has already memorized the lines and curves of his mask, so instead, she turns her eyes to gaze just over his shoulder, at one of the pillars constructed entirely of Starflowers. They’re her favorite. And fantastically rare, native to the lost planet of Alderaan, but carefully grown and cultivated here in their palace greenhouses. Most of the flowers in the pillars are meticulously fabricated recreations, as it would have been impossible to harvest the number of blooms necessary.

The soft kiss of leather brushing over the backs of her knuckles brings her gaze back to Kylo Ren. The officiant is speaking to her, she hadn’t even noticed, so she squeezes Kylo’s hands silently in thanks. She says the words she needs to say, the vows she has spent weeks practicing; she listens to his own vows spoken in his deep and modulated voice. Rey wonders what his voice actually sounds like. 

As part of the arrangement, there will be no kiss; instead, Rey watches with bated breath as Kylo slowly pulls off the glove of his one hand. She can practically feel the entire room and galaxy holding their breath with her.

It’s almost hot, compared to the gentle warmth of the glove, as his hand slips into her outstretched one. He has callouses; she makes note of them as his index and middle fingers press against the pulse in her wrist. There are more words, and the cacophony of whirring lenses as they capture the moment Supreme Leader Kylo Ren and Princess Rey Palpatine are wed.

He doesn’t put his glove back on until they walk back down the aisle and one of Rey’s ladies opens the door to a small antechamber just outside the chapel area. Once the door closes behind them both, he releases her, and she watches him pull the glove back on, flexing his hand and then turning towards her.

She wonders if it would be odd to introduce herself to her husband. The thought makes her smile a little, and then he speaks. 

“Did you receive my letters?” he asks, and Rey blinks at him in surprise. Of all the things he could say to her now, she wasn’t expecting that.

“I did. They were,” she twists her hands together in front of her and tilts her head. “They were lovely, thank you.” He grunts at her, and that more than anything assures her this is the man that wrote those letters. “They were, your handwriting - where did you learn?”

“When I was younger,” he says, tone dismissive, “it helps me to relax.”

“Ah.” Rey is a princess, trained to be able to fill hours with mindless chatter, and debate with the best of her grandfather’s council, but right now, she can’t be arsed to find anything to say to her new husband. She moves over to a small couch and flops into it, pulling her legs up and lounging across the cushion. The shoes were a mistake. Slowly she lifts one foot and twists and turns it to take in her foot and the silver high heeled monstrosity that entombs it. Just a few more hours and she could take them off.

“Pretty,” her husband speaks and Rey rolls her eyes.

An unladylike snort escapes, and she’s thankful they’re alone. “Pretty torturous,” she counters, dropping her foot back to the couch.

“You could take them off?”

“Oh, Kylo, no,” she sighs, leaning her head back onto the arm with a sigh. “The dress was fitted with me wearing shoes; grandfather would have a fit if I –”

“You are the wife of the Supreme Leader of the galaxy now.” His voice is a growl, and she swallows hard, then jumps when she feels his fingers curl around her ankle. Rey opens one eye to gaze down her body at him. “An Empress, in your own right, so if you don’t want to wear them - you need not answer to anyone but yourself now.” He slips the shoe off of her foot and gently sets it down on the floor before lifting her other foot and carefully shifting her dress so he can sit down with her. She frowns, wondering what his game is, but she whimpers when his thumb presses into the sole of her foot. It tickles, just a little, but the touch is firm enough that she doesn’t try to squirm away from him. 

Rey is halfway to melting into a puddle when he removes her other shoe and gives that foot the same treatment. He has his head tilted down, better able to watch what he’s doing, but Rey isn’t fooled, knows he could easily be looking anywhere else, so she stares at the ceiling. 

When the door finally opens, Kylo is standing across the room, and Rey is slipping back into her shoes. 

“Your Excellencies, we are ready for you in the grand hall.”

“Thank you, Mitaka,” Kylo says, brushing off his robes, “I believe we can find our way; we will meet you there.” The door snaps closed, and then he reaches out for Rey. Her hand slips easily into his covered ones, and he helps her to her feet, waits as she steadies herself.

“Are you ready?” he asks, placing a hand on her lower back.

She turns her head towards him. “Of course,” she speaks haughtily.

“Very well.” Kylo opens the door, and they step out into the hall. Her heels clack smartly on the shiny floor, and next to her, Kylo’s boots thud quietly with every step.

It’s a show now, from here on out, and she’s grateful for the few minutes of quiet they were allowed to have. Now they will wine and dine and meet with all of their wedding guests, dignitaries from across the galaxy. It will be hours before she sees her bed. 

The thought of her bed sends a thrill through her. Before meeting him, before their interlude in the room, she had been so sure they would wait. Indeed paperwork and contracts had been drawn up to validate their union without any kind of kiss or consummation. Perhaps, if Kylo ever took his helmet off in front of her tonight, she would see about a kiss, on the cheek. As a thank you.

She feels Kylo’s fingers press more firmly against her for a moment before breaking off. Together they ascend the dais where they will sit and eat together, allowing everyone to watch them.

“Are you not hungry?” she whispers, leaning over towards him and eyeing his helmet.

“I can eat later,” he insists, which makes her frown, but he just leans back in his chair and crosses his ankles beneath the table.

“Do you eat actual food?” She asks slowly, now wondering if he just has nutrients pumped into him.

He chuckles, the sound distorted strangely beneath his mask. “I do.”

* * *

Her room is unchanged, a demand she had made after giving in on so many other things. It’s as she left it this morning for the most part; though the bed has been remade, and no longer the blanket nest she had emerged from. Quietly she closes the door behind her, carefully locking it and then kicking off her shoes.

“Oh, yeah,” she groans, wiggling her toes before scooping up the glittery pair of heels and placing them inside of her closet. Warily she eyes the door in the middle of the wall. For the first time that she can recall, it’s open, and she can hear someone on the other side. She squeaks when Kylo appears.

“Rey,” he says, sounding surprised. “I’m sorry for startling you.”

“It’s okay.” She tries to smile. “Um, can I ask you something?” she asks. One day, when she knows her husband better, she won’t be so demure, will speak her mind as she usually does, but she’s just so kriffing nervous. She would hate to end this long day on Kylo Ren’s bad side.

“You may.”

“Your helmet,” she starts, then gasps when he immediately moves, reaching up, thumbs pressing against something beneath the chin. The apparatus hisses, the panel that covers his mouth rises, and then he lifts it from his head. Rey gapes. It’s incredibly rude, the way she’s behaving. But her husband is gorgeous. 

A flush suffuses his cheeks, and she could slap herself because she actually spoke that word out loud. He clears his throat, tucking his helmet in the crook of his arm. “Not nearly as gorgeous as you.” His voice is still deep, rich and smooth and gentle.

“You don’t need to attempt to flatter me. We’re already married, and it’s political. I know what’s required of me, of us.” She aims for an air of nonchalance. 

He steps closer to her, invades her room, and she backs up. “Rey, you are breathtaking, truly.” His hand reaches up, leather-covered knuckles caressing her cheek as his eyes take her in.

“Kylo,” she croaks, blushing herself now and lowering her head.

“Ben,” he whispers, so soft she almost doesn’t catch it, head turning up again to look at him. “My real name, is Ben, and I would - it would please me when we’re alone if you would use it.”

Rey takes him in, the gentle look in his eye, the slightest hint of a smile, and she nods. “Would you like some wine, Ben?”

She pours them each a glass while he sets his helmet down on her dressing table. “Thank you,” he murmurs, taking the glass from her when she offers it.

They stand across from one another and take a slow sip. “So, what’s it like?” she asks, sitting on her bed, curling her legs up beneath the voluminous skirts of her dress. “Being the Supreme Leader?”

“Truthfully?” Ben replies, leaning against one of her bedposts, “Lonely.”

Rey sighs, “Yeah, I know how that is. It’s been my grandfather and I since as long as I can remember, and even then he was always busy. Eventually, so I was, and anyone else I could consider a friend is on the staff.” Her lips twist in a scowl before she takes another drink. “I just always felt alone.” She probably shouldn’t be sharing this information like this, while it’s nothing incriminating, someone, somewhere could find a way to use this against her if Ben decided to tell someone else. He’s trusting her with his face, has trusted her with his words, little though they were.

“Rey.” Ben hesitates before sitting down next to her. “You aren’t alone.”

“Neither are you,” Rey returns, managing a slight smile as she turns to face him better. Her hand brushes his, and he pulls away from her. She frowns but watches him as he carefully pulls both of his gloves off, laying them across his thigh; then, hesitantly, he reaches towards her. They both share a sigh of relief when their fingers tangle together.

Two glasses of wine each later, Rey is laying back across her bed smiling up at the canopy, Ben reclining next to her as he tells her about all of the planets he’s visited. 

“Sometimes I dream of an island,” Rey whispers when Ben finally falls quiet. “In the middle of an ocean. Other times I dream of a graveyard in a desert, a battle in the rain.” She turns to look at him. “What’s it like? Fighting with a lightsaber?”

“It’s hard to describe.”

Rey huffs, “Try.”

“I could show you?”

Rey sits up and looks around her chambers. “Is there space?”

‘Wait here,” he says then gets up from the bed. Rey watches him go, retreating into his room, and when he returns he has his weapon in hand. He pushes the chairs and table, the make up, and her sitting area to the side and then beckons for her. 

Rey goes, cautiously, taking his hand when he offers it. “Oh!” She cries out, when he pulls her close, spinning her around so her back is pressed to her chest. 

He wraps his hands over hers around the hilt of the blade, and Rey is very aware that her fingers don’t meet beneath his. Then his thumb moves, and it springs to life, startling her. But she has no where to go but closer against Ben. It’s red and agitated, almost pulsing with life and energy, and it makes a low crackling noise. It’s unlike any other lightsaber she’s ever seen.

“There are different fighting forms,” he tells her, and she feels his breath against her neck and ear. “Some defensive, some offensive. Some basic, others look extravagant. The Jedi believed in defensive forms, attempting to avoid fights where possible, not all of them, but most.”

“And you?” Rey asks, blushing at how breathy her voice sounds.

His chuckle reverberates up her back and gently moves her, blade arcing slowly in front of them. “They all have their strengths and weaknesses,” he answers, thumb passing back over the button, and the red light disappears.

“How dreadfully diplomatic,” Rey teases as Ben releases her hands. She feels them settle at her waist as she tests the weight and heft of the hilt in her grasp.

“Would you like one?” he asks instead, and Rey turns her head to try and look at him.

“I’m not, I don’t - am I allowed?” Her brows pinch together in a small frown, even as her fingers roam over the hilt, learning the bumps and grooves, catching just slightly on the exposed wires. She knows how precious these are.

Ben’s gaze softens minutely. “Yes. Anything you want, ask for it, and it’s yours.”

Rey hums, turning fully in his embrace. “Anything?” she smirks, enjoying the way he blushes again then nods. “I want to kiss you,” she informs him, looping one hand around the back of his neck, fingers ruffling the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yes,” he breathes.

His lips are soft. It's the first thing she notices; the second is how tense he is. “Ben,” she says, pulling away to press a kiss to his cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he gulps, “it’s just I’ve never kissed anyone before. I don’t take off the mask.”

“Would you like to put it back on?” Rey asks, and he shakes his head, making her smile. “Okay, well, if you don’t want –“

“I do,” he interrupts, his grip tightening at her waist, and she brings her other hand up, gently settling it against his cheek, rubbing her fingertips over the whorl of his ear as he leans into her touch. “Do you feel it, Rey?” he questions, gazing earnestly into her eyes.

“Feel what?” She frowns, brushing his long hair from his brow.

“The way we’re–“ he takes a deep breath, then smiles, a tiny thing, barely there before it’s gone again. “Close your eyes.” Rey frowns, but then he pulls her closer. “Please.”

So she does, shivering when Ben’s lips are against her ear once more. “Focus, on the way we’re breathing together, the feel of your heartbeat, and then mine. Reach out,” he instructs, and Rey does, gasping when it washes over her, the sensation of completeness, of feeling that thing that’s been elusive to her her whole life. But she knows without a doubt what it is.

“The Force,” she gasps, eyes fluttering open to meet Ben’s. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is. I can teach you. I felt it the moment I saw you, the way it swirled around you, chaotic and untrained. Powerful. Do you feel it now, though, the way we’re meant for one another, like two halves a whole?”

“Yes.” Rey shudders, closing her eyes again to focus on it for a moment before opening them and pulling Ben down to her. 

He’s less tense this time, even laughing a little as their noses bump together in their overeagerness. Ben’s arms curl around her as she presses kiss after kiss to his lips. Coaxing him into opening up for her takes time, but she’s patient, licking and nipping gently at his mouth while her thumb moves across his cheek. Finally, with a groan, he relents, pulling her closer as her tongue slips between his lips.

She smiles against him when he teases her back. His tongue explores her before he tears his mouth away to kiss across her cheek, against her ear then down her throat. Rey whines when his teeth dig into her flesh, and she pulls him backward until the backs of her knees hit the bed behind her. “Ben,” she moans, hips rolling against him when he tugs at her. Even through the heavy layers of her dress, she can feel his want. “Ben,” she repeats, pulling at his hair, chuffing a laugh at his low disgruntled noise as his mouth leaves her flesh.

“Ben.” Her hands leave his hair and trail down over the heavy brocade of his tunic to the thick belt wrapped around his waist. “I want out of this dress,” she informs him, gaze focusing on the buckle as she undoes it, reveling in the way his breath hitches when it falls loose. “Now.” She emphasizes the word with a quick peck to his mouth, that has him chasing after her for another kiss as she pulls away, but she presses her fingers to his lips, already so kiss bruised. She smiles when he frowns, and then she turns around.

He gets to work quickly, fingers deftly working the line of buttons that runs along her spine while his mouth sucks a bruise onto her skin where neck meets shoulder. She can feel the fabric loosen around her torso, and then gasps when Rey feels Ben’s hands slip inside.

She twists her head to find his mouth again, a hand fisting in his hair as their mouths collide. Her teeth scrape against his tongue, and she moans into him when his hands slide up and cup her breasts. Rey lets him touch her, light and teasing until her nipples are stiff peaks, and he pinches them between his long fingers. A moment later she’s arching back against him, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as she wrestles her arms free from their sleeves, and with Ben’s help they push her dress down until it slips over her thighs and pools in a puddle of silk and tulle that comes up to her knees.

It’s not cold in her room, but she shivers all the same, Ben’s face now pressed against her neck, breathing her in as his fingers pinch and pull at her nipples. He moves almost too fast for her to process, an arm banding behind her knees, and he scoops her up, rolling her towards his chest. Rey squeaks in surprise, even as she kicks out of the bit of fabric that is insisting on clinging to her feet.

“Look at you,” Ben breathes after setting her down on her bed. Rey crosses her legs, biting her lip at the dampness she already feels in her underwear. “Kriffing beautiful,” he murmurs, before settling one knee on the bed, forcing her to lean back to accommodate his presence. Her hands splay out on the sheets behind her as Ben settles over her lap, head dipping down to capture the rosy bud of one nipple between his lips. His large hand, splayed across the center of her back is the only thing keeping her up when she cries out at the sensation, arms falling lax before reaching up to fist at the fabric on his shoulders. 

He’s big. This isn’t new information to her, but the way his body curls over and around her, practically looming, it makes her feel so small. He eases her back until she’s lying across the mattress, and Rey glances down to watch his mouth, lips pursed around her breast, his jaw is rolling. She feels his tongue flick over her bud; then he releases her with a wet pop, peppering kisses across her sternum until he can envelop its twin in the wet heat of his mouth.

“Ben,” she cries, shifting beneath him, canting her hips up towards him.

“Is this okay?” He asks, pulling back from her with another _pop_ , and she nods.

“You’re doing so good, Ben,” she croons, left hand moving so she can rub her thumb against his jaw before moving towards his tunic. “Help me with this,” she demands, making him smirk before he swats her hands away, unfastening it and shrugging out of it in what looks to be record time. His chest is pale and broad, marked with scars from battles, and Rey reaches out to touch him. 

He lets her hands roam, watching her take him in, and Rey laughs when he captures her right hand tightly as it skitters across the side of his abdomen. “Don’t,” he rumbles, and Rey pulls her legs out from between his to wrap around him and pull him closer.

“Is my husband ticklish?” she asks, now tugging at her hand in his grasp until he’s close enough to kiss.

“Is my wife?” he asks, voice low, lips still against hers. Rey hums, and he kisses her again, hard as his hands move down over her body, fingertips teasing at her flesh until she bucks against him, laughing against his mouth until he lays fully against her, grabbing her hands and pressing them into the mattress above her head.

“It seems I am,” she says, breathless and smiling when he presses his forehead to hers. “Ben,” she purrs his name after she catches her breath, eyes dancing with desire, body aching with need. “Please,” she begs, rocking up against the large bulge at the front of his pants. 

He keeps his gaze on hers for a moment more before moving, holding both her wrists in one hand now as he reaches down and unfastens his pants. Rey tries to stay out of his way, gasping when he pushes her leg down so she isn’t so wrapped around him, and she bites her lip as he yanks down his pants, revealing the hard length of him to her.

She wants to touch him, squirms in his tight grasp, and moans his name.

“Patience, Rey,” he drawls, glancing up at her as his fingers slip into her underwear. She bucks against his hand as his knuckles brush against her wetness, and she nods, voice broken as she begs, whimpers as he hooks his fingers around the scrap of fabric and pulls it down her legs, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor. Ben pushes her legs apart with his free hand and steps back into the space. He just stares down at her, and Rey can’t help but blush, of the minimal tumbles she’s taken before this none of them had ever seemed so captivated.

“Ben,” she croons his name, twisting her wrists a little, forcing his gaze upward. “I find I am at your mercy, Supreme Leader, and quite wanting. Your wife would like you to touch her.”

“Would she now?” he rumbles, sounding amused, and she grins impishly at him as she nods. “Perhaps I’d like a taste, too.” Rey closes her eyes and hums, capturing him between her thighs.

“I’ll allow it,” she teases, only to open her eyes to find him blushing, and then she remembers, he’s never done any of this without the helmet off. “Just start with a kiss; I’ll tell you if you do anything I don’t like.” She keeps her tone gentle and is rewarded for it when he leans back over her, ravaging her mouth with another kiss. She can feel him there against her stomach, hot and heavy, and she moans at the thought of having him inside of her.

When Ben finally frees her hands, she allows them a moment of rest before carding her fingers through his hair as they kiss. This is crazy, she thinks, how quickly this is moving, but it feels so right.

“Yes,” Ben hisses against her mouth before trailing kisses down her body, stopping to lavish attention on her breasts again, just enough to rile her up and make her groan in disappointment when he moves on.

Rey laughs when he finally shoulders her legs apart and moves in closer to where her body is wet and wanting him. Her legs clamp shut around his ears, and she squeaks. “Sorry,” she giggles, covering her face with her hands. “Your hair tickles,” she confesses quietly, relaxing her thighs a bit, then squealing when he deliberately shakes his head, hair feathering against her skin. “Ben!”

“You’re ticklish everywhere, aren’t you?” He sounds thoroughly amused, and Rey just grunts, making him laugh. She feels it, his breath fluttering across her folds, and it makes her gasp. “You okay?” He asks, and she hums, dragging her hands down over her body to cup her chest. Her breath hitches when his palms settle on her flesh, opening her further to his perusal, and then it comes. Barely there, just the faintest hint of pressure against her lips, but she moans all the same, because he’s _there_ , and she’s so close to being able to feel relief. 

The second kiss is bolder, and she whimpers, wriggling just a bit until he moves, hands clamping down around her waist to hold her still. She lets him explore, pressing slow, lingering kisses up and down her slit, shouting in surprise when he catches her clit between his lips and sucks gently at it. 

It’s torture, the sweetest torture she’s ever experienced, and she sobs when she feels his tongue swipe at her, tentative at first. But then, Ben licks a broad, bold stripe from bottom to top, and suddenly her hands are buried in his hair.

“Ben, please,” she begs, but he just presses closer, licks turning sloppy until they aren’t anymore. Pointed tongue tapping at her clit, swirling around it, and she feels a finger enter her. She thinks she shouts his name when it happens, but it might just be noise as she climaxes against his face, legs clapping his ears once more, and hands tightening around his hair as she rides out her bliss.

She’s trembling against him, tears are leaking from her eyes, and he’s back to pressing gentle kisses to her core. “Ben,” she croaks, body falling lax, her hands releasing their hold on his hair. “Kriff.”

When he rises, the lower half of his face is shining with the evidence of her arousal, and he looks smug as hell about it. “Good?” he asks, and she can see it, laced within his expression, the worry that it was somehow inadequate.

“Amazing,” she breathes, reaching for him until he comes willingly, large body pressing down into hers, and she kisses him. She feels like her heart is singing, a far cry from the trepidation she had felt when she woke up that morning, and she wonders, as she feels his cock settle against her folds, rubbing against her clit, if this has anything to do with what she had experienced with him earlier.

“Ben.” Her hands press his hair back from his face again, sweaty at the temples, and she smiles. “I want you,” she tells him, enjoying the full body shudder that rolls over him at her words.

He hisses the word _yes_ and carefully reaches between them, shifting his hips back, running the tip of his cock up and down over her cunt; he doesn’t watch what he’s doing, but rather keeps his gaze locked on hers. When Rey feels the blunt head of him notch up against her entrance she bites down on her lower lip, rocking up against him, reveling in his grunt as her body opens to him, and he sinks further inside.

“So wet,” he mutters brokenly, “so tight, kriff Rey.” He eases into her, almost teasing her with the way he sinks further inside before drawing back. She attempts to force his hand, rolling her hips with his, but he remains strong. Instead, she pushes a hand down her body and rubs at her clit for a moment until he’s buried his entire length within her. 

She’s never felt so full, says it out loud in a whisper, and Ben groans, pelvis seeming to press even closer to hers. Blindly he reaches for her hand as he begins to thrust. It’s slow, a thorough plundering as the room steadily fills with their gasps and moans and the sound of flesh against flesh. She feels the heat of his skin beneath her palm, the way his hand holds her presses it to his chest. The urge to close her eyes, shy away from his unstable gaze is strong, but she refuses to back down. Ben’s mouth tilts with a lopsided smile, and then his other hand reaches down, grasping at her leg, pulling it up, changing the angle. She gasps. It sounds loud to her own ears, but still, their gaze remains locked.

It’s fast, and steady, the beat of his heart. She can feel it, and she’s crying again. Ben’s rhythm falters, and Rey shakes her head. “Don’t stop,” she whimpers, “please.”

Her free hand is at her clit again, rubbing frantic circles as she chases her release, gasping as the sensation from earlier floods her being. “Ben!” She keens his name, body arching up into him, fingernails digging into his chest as she comes. 

Ben moans, hips snapping quickly now against hers until he’s groaning her name and drilling against her as he spills within her warmth. 

Their breathing is ragged now as he lowers his forehead back to hers, releasing her leg to brush at her tears.

“I feel it,” she tells him, chest hitching with her breaths. “Ben, I feel it.”

“I know,” he responds, “I feel it, too.”

He slips free from her, and Rey wrinkles her nose as she feels his spend trickle out between her cheeks, most likely ruining the bedding.

“Come here,” Ben says, scooping her easily up into his arms, pulling the sheets back further until he can place her down on her pillows; then he climbs in after her.

Rey settles her palm back over his chest, feeling the steady _ba-dum, ba-dum_ , of his heart as it settles from its elevated rhythm. She lets Ben touch her where he will, hand running over her ass, up her arms and shoulders, down across her chest. She watches him, and he watches her.

“What does it mean?” she asks, breaking the silence.

Ben smiles gently at her. “It means we’re connected, you and I. It’s what the Force wills. I’ll teach you everything I know; you’re powerful, Rey. You’ll be breathtaking.”

The knowledge that she has the Force, this untapped potential within her, is a heady feeling, more overwhelming than getting married to a stranger. Ben doesn’t feel like a stranger though; he feels like the part of her she’s been missing all this time without knowing a piece of herself was missing at all. 

It’s the adrenaline that keeps her awake, pressed against her husband, but curiosity that has her asking questions. He answers them all with patience and thoughtfulness, with promises to show her more, let her test out what she can do once they’re away on his ship.

She dozes off at some point, lulled to sleep by the gentle ministrations of Ben’s steady touch. The sun isn’t even up when she wakes again to find Ben watching her.

“Did you sleep?” she rumbles, grunting when he shakes his head no.

“I don’t sleep a lot,” he tells her, and it feels like a confession. She could ask, but there’s something in the way he subtly tenses that tells her to wait. After all, they have time. Instead, she nudges him to his back and climbs on top of him with a sleepy smile, already feeling more awake by the moment.

He’s already hard against the curve of her ass, and a cursory touch to her core finds her still wet, drenched and really sticky from before. She licks her palm anyway before wrapping a hand around his thickness, pumping him languidly until he’s biting his lip and gripping her hips tight.

They exhale in tandem as she finally settles over him and sinks down. He feels bigger, deeper this way, but Rey loves it. She rides him hard until he’s a begging mess, thumb inching inward towards her clit. It barely takes him brushing over her before she comes, head tipping back as she shouts towards the ceiling. Ben’s grip on her doesn’t let up, rather it becomes tighter as he ruts up into her until he comes, too. He moans her name as he does, and Rey feels her core flutter around him again in a tiny pulse of a second, gentler orgasm. She can feel his cock pulsing within her to the beat of his heart, and she collapses over him, pressing her ear against his chest to listen to it.

She reaches for the chrono on her bedside table and squints at it. Three hours until they’ll be expected to be waking. Three hours until the staff in her grandfather’s palace get the surprise of their lives when they find them tangled up together in her sheets, especially after how adamant she had been about this _not_ happening.

They’ll gossip about it long after they’re gone far away from here. How their princess was seduced by the Supreme Leader; none of them will know the truth though. Their connection, the way she found his heart, the way he let her find it. No, that was something, a secret kept between the Supreme Leader and his Empress.


End file.
